Flawed
by Livily
Summary: We all have flaws: rage, greed, jealousy, pride, doubt, selfishness. Narnia's Golden Monarchs are golden not for their perfection, but the grace of their King.
1. Acceptance

AN: Ho hum, I'm back with yet another quartet on the Pevensies. Perhaps next time I'll branch out. Anyhow, not sure what I think about this one, but I thought I'd give it a shot. Mostly these are just for fun. This does contain **spoilers **for the **Last Battle.**

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"_You think we ought to go on?" said Lucy._

"_I'm not sure that High King _is _lost," said Trumpkin. "What's to hinder this river being the Rush?"_

"_Because the Rush is not in a gorge," said Peter, keeping his temper with some difficulty._

Prince Caspian, C.S. Lewis

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A time before this life flashes before Peter Pevensie's eyes, warring with other moments spread throughout two lifetimes. The world around him blurs, screeches, and rumbles. So many thoughts rushing by in a manner of seconds. He can hardly wrap his mind around the cacophony of images, but then, he has never been one to accept things easily.

_He remembers his disbelief at Dad's departure for the War. Stoic, Mum had called him, but in his mind he had been a grieving child, unable to accept the possibility of his father's death or the burdening responsibility he now felt for Susan, Edmund, and Lucy. _

He jerks forward, throwing a protective hand in front of his brother.

_During Edmund's days as a victim and bully, Peter had pushed his brother's pain aside. Not wanting to believe his brother to be helpless or cruel, he had carefully contrived an ignorance that masked his own hurt as well as Edmund's. _

The lurching beast growls, bullying its victims into fearful submission. Beside Edmund, Peter straightens his back, facing an enemy he can not beat.

_The first days in Narnia had tested a faith he did not know he possessed. How could one possibly believe in the existence of a world within a wardrobe? He had resisted the sweet air, refusing to accept the destiny woven through a new life. An army behind and a crown before, Peter had feared the role he had been born to. _

With naught but a suitcase beside him, Peter's fists clench, yearning for a sword, a shield, _something, _to fend off impending doom.

_Returning to England was hell. Thrust into a magical kingdom tested belief, but changing from king to boy challenged faith. Peter had never had a strong supply of either. He remembered his surly manner, his desire to fight with other boys. After a life of splendor and purpose, accepting an existence of menial tasks and daily routines proved impossible. He gladly would have escaped England in any possible way. _

Fear clutches his heart as the bland, gray station fills with a featureless roar. This world does not possess Narnia's beauty or heart, but Peter has not yet finished living.

_The new darkness of Narnia had shaken him—his kingdom plunged into all that he had fought to keep it from. Cair Paravel ruined, his friends lost, the Narnians in hiding—how could he accept this sinister change? How could he face a Creator who had abandoned both king and kingdom? This world was not the land he loved, yet it struggled for his heart, forcing him to accept an Almighty Will that stripped him of his role in both past and future. _

The train gives a final blast of noise, and Peter reels toward Edmund, images flying like the rubble around him. He remembers the lamppost and Cair Paravel, never to be seen again. He imagines Lucy and Edmund aboard the _Dawn Treader_, without him or Susan. He recalls Susan, whirling off to another party, pecking him on the cheek as she goes and calling him a "silly dear." He sees Edmund, face tight, screaming wordlessly for his brother as the train collides.

Peter cannot accept these things. He is flawed, he realizes, but how can a person easily allow such pain? Another image enters his sight, this one radiant. His eyes squint, and he cowers, feeling the full taint of his faults. The vision clears, and he is looking at the Stone Table.

Before the last breath can escape his lips, Peter recognizes the quick approach of death. Eyes fluttering shut, the screech of metal becomes the roar of a Lion, and finally, Peter accepts.

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"_Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst."_

_1 Timothy 1:15_

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**AN: So, loved it, hated it? Did the snapshot idea work or was it just tedious? Reviews are very much appreciated. **


	2. Sight

AN: Sorry for the delay, my internet has been down and school has been hard and we got a puppy (yay!). Also, it was stinking difficult to find a flaw for Lucy. She's always described as the perfect child, so I hope this is believable.

**Chapter Two**

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"_She saw herself throned on high at a great tournament in Calormen and all the kings in the world fought because of her beauty. After that it turned from tournaments to real wars… Then it changed and Lucy, still beautiful beyond the lot of mortals, was back in England… And Susan was jealous of the dazzling beauty of Lucy, but that didn't matter a bit because no one cared about Susan now."_

The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, C.S. Lewis

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Lucy remembers that dark fairy tale—the one that granted her beauty beyond any physical world. She remembers the lust, the power, the desire. She remembers the feeling of, for once in her life, surpassing Susan.

"_Lucy, dear, you really ought to consider pinning these lovely curls up sometime. You'd look gorgeous, you know." _

Lucy has always been the first one to see. She found the Wardrobe and its glittering world and later stumbled upon the pathway home. She witnessed the Death that garnered salvation for her family and would discover, years later, Aslan's presence in a Narnia she had previously thought forsaken. She would seek hope in a white albatross and unveil a Magician's Book with unspeakable secrets.

"_I've always worn my hair down. You know that, Susan. Besides, I like it this way. It reminds me of Narnia." _

No one would ever know quite what Narnia meant to Lucy. It was a place where she had purpose, beauty, and purity, and she clung to these memories with a desperation neither her brothers nor sister could ever imagine.

"_Can we go a day without blathering on about this Narnia business, Lu? Just a day? It was only a game—pretty pictures we saw in our imaginations." _

Oh yes, Lucy sees many pictures—dark pictures. She sees her own heart and the blackness that lies hidden in a small corner. Just as she has seen the majesty of Aslan, Lucy sees her own inadequacy. And she is jealous. Jealous of those who possess the traits of the valiant queen she once was. Lucy wishes for purpose again. For dignity. She wishes to be more than a little girl.

"_I won't argue about this again, Susan. Don't talk to me like I'm your ignorant little sister. I've more experience than you'd care to recognize." _

Peter is an adult again, well on his way to becoming a successful doctor. Edmund has immersed himself in England's judicial system. Both of her brothers have found purpose. Susan… Susan no longer remembers, but she is beautiful and elegant. Susan is respected. Lucy sees this, and she is envious. She hates the dark corner that whispers to her of childish actions and insufficiency.

"_Yes, well, whatever you say, dear. I do think you ought to let me do your hair. If I start now, we could both make it to the party." _

Lucy has been given the gift of sight and thus sees her own flaws. Her fairytale is over, her innocence and joy diminished. Lucy knows that she may never achieve anything great in this world—especially if success means attending silly parties.

"_I'm meeting Peter and Edmund at the train station, Su. We'd love to have you. It'd be like before…" _

She sees that story again. The one of a beautiful, powerful Lucy. Someone who means something, who can accomplish things.

"_Why should I come? So I can listen to the three of you talk about your imaginary country? Hm? Is that what you want? To drag me into your childish fantasies and ruin everything I've accomplished here?" _

That Lucy—the one kings covet and princesses secretly despise— is not happy.

"_You cannot truly enjoy this, Susan. Don't you remember a time before all of this superficial rubbish? You were stunning in Narnia, yet you didn't care. You didn't try. Be the queen you are. Be our sister." _

Lucy will never have a place in this world. She sees that now.

"_I _am _happy, Lucy. You're just too caught up in your fairytale world to see something real." _

A thousand pictures from a fairytale world blur before Lucy's vision, one image standing out among all other. She sees a figure who has guided her, loved her, and sacrificed everything for her.

"_This isn't real, Susan. What's real is that night at the Stone Table. Those seconds when your head is buried in Aslan's mane and you feel as if nothing in the world can ever hurt you because He's there are the realest moments in the world. What's real is that I'm _never_ going to be good enough, Susan, but He will always be. I love you, Su, and I wish you were coming, but I have to go. I've a train to catch." _

Hours later, as she lies broken in a jungle of metal, Lucy remembers that murky place in her heart, as ominous as death's approach. Darkness engulfs her, yet Lucy does not fear, for her face is pressed into Aslan's golden mane, grace shrouding the dark corner. Her eyes fail her, yet for the first time in a long while, Lucy sees.

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"_Jesus said to him, 'Receive your sight; your faith has healed you.'" _

_Luke 18:42_

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	3. Understanding

AN: I'm actually still here. And I haven't abandoned this story. I should have it done by the end of the week before I depart for vacation. Thanks to all of my readers and reviewers. You guys are amazing!

Chapter Three

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"… _Edmund could see two small hills, and he was almost sure they were the two hills which the White Witch had pointed out to him…and he thought about Turkish Delight and about being a King ('And I wonder how Peter will like that?' he asked himself) and horrible ideas came into his head." _

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe C.S. Lewis

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The orchestration of the plot had been his idea. Peter supplied the objective, and Edmund the means. Even in England, the lapse back into this familiar pattern came as easily as breathing. Focused on obtaining workers' uniforms, Edmund hadn't considered the alternative options resulting from their success. Sitting atop the brick wall, Edmund acknowledges his hidden wish and the reality of accomplishment that sits beneath damp soil.

_Resume your reign, King Edmund. Save your people. _

A muffled crunch sounds below as Peter's shovel pierces the ground. A familiar chill creeps down Edmund's back, drawing him toward hidden power, toward the missing route home.

_I know the power you seek, my prince. I have experienced it myself. _

The call entices him, mocking the yearning that permeates his very existence in England. This Siren Song speaks to him of lost power and a return to gold. Beneath this dirt exists the means to accomplish all that he dreams. Edmund is tempted.

_Take that which was stolen from you, Just King. Lead Narnia into an age of peace, prosperity, and justice. _

A shiver wracks his body, and nausea causes a rebellion in his abdomen. If he shuts his eyes for but a second, Edmund can see the flurry of snowflakes. He feels the warmth of a fur mantle settle around his shoulders. Powder coats his lips, and the sickly sweet taste of Turkish Delight fills his mouth. Visions of Narnia, of home, streak through his mind, the blizzard luring him toward unspoken desires.

_I promise you Narnia, Edmund. Such exile does not suit a king. The rings will take you to your kingdom in her time of need. You never need see polluted skies or listen to the worthless cries of this insolent mob again. All shall be pure. All shall be yours. _

The wall seems to lean toward the rapidly growing hole, and Edmund struggles to maintain his seat. For decades, Edmund has worked clandestinely. Objectives shimmering on rosy horizons, it is Edmund's lot to secure the reality of a goal. His heart cries to him to seize the rings, to seize power. Like other countless times, he need only reach out and take the approach that would signify success.

_Prove yourself to the Narnians, Edmund. If you alone save them from their darkest hour, who would dare to call the Just a traitor? _

Edmund's heart yearns for home. Logic reminds him of conversations, heroics, and nobility that long ago separated the Just King from the treacherous boy. Edmund understands this, yet the promise of the rings offers a chance his heart desires—the same desire that led a bitter child to accept a Witch's candy. Edmund is tempted to prove himself.

_You need not think so much, my dear. What wrong can there be in rushing to aid your people?_

Peter gives an excited shout below and several green and gold objects flash in the morning sunlight. Edmund gulps as his opportunity approaches. He struggles to fight the temptation that threatens to control his actions. Leaping down from the wall, his breathing escalates as he approaches Peter and what he believes to be the only way into Narnia. Edmund always finds a way. It lies before him now.

_Snatch them, Edmund! Timeliness is imperative!_

Edmund knows no other way to achieve his goal. His hand reaches toward his brother's, accepting the rings that Peter trustingly places into his palm. The green contrasts his pale skin, reminding him of flowered meadows and ancient forests. The glint of gold evokes images of Narnian falls and sandy beaches. Edmund wants nothing more than Narnia. He imagines Lucy's golden hair crowned with daisies and Susan's cheeks bronzed after an afternoon on horseback.

_You may come for your sisters later, Edmund. Narnia requires your assistance now! Do not tarry! Do not deprive them of their king and salvation. There is no other way. _

Edmund fingers a gold ring carefully, eyes searching for Peter's face. He remembers his brother, golden crown bowed in fealty to Aslan, King over all Kings. A shriek echoes in his mind, but slowly the chilling voice fades, replaced by the comforting words Edmund last heard from the Lion. His heart still aches for Narnia, but he will not arrive there by his own doing. Haltingly, Edmund returns the rings to Peter's hand.

Soon after, Edmund finds himself in a world laced with gold. He cannot remember the searing pain or atrocious shriek that ushered him from one world to the next, but he no longer cares to recall this process. As always, Aslan delivered him in a way Edmund could not foresee. Edmund does not know how he came to be in such a golden place, yet it is not the coming but the arrival that matters. This is something Edmund finally understands.

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"_A man's steps are directed by the Lord. How then can anyone understand his own way?"_

_Proverbs 20:24_

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AN: PHEW! This was the hardest chapter to write. There was just so much that I *could* do with Edmund that I didn't know where to begin. And the Witch speaking to him just came out of nowhere. This isn't my favorite chapter, but it turned out better than I thought. Susan's is next, which will be the final chapter of this story! Hurray!


	4. Knowing

AN: As promised, I'm posting the fourth and final chapter of this quartet. This is Susan's. I feel like I deal with Susan's post LB state way too often, so I'm going to try stay away for awhile. :) This is the conclusion, so it was meant to convey an overall theme... it's the longest of the four chapters.

Chapter Four

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" _Then, after an awful pause, the deep voice said, 'Susan.' Susan made no answer but the others thought she was crying. 'You have listened to your fears, child,' said Aslan. 'Come, let me breathe on you. Forget them.'"_

Prince Caspian C.S. Lewis

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Seated across from her Aunt Alberta, Susan knows she ought to make some sort of small talk. Not only is it proper of two relations, but Susan acknowledges the inconvenience surrounding Alberta's presence on this journey. As difficult as her aunt may be, Susan is grateful for the experience and, though ill-suited, companionship she provides. Bracing herself, Susan mentions the weather and the lovely practicality of Alberta's charcoal hat.

_Her own head donned in the black of mourning, Susan holds Lucy's hand as the girls console their new friend, King Lune. He has lost a wife and a son. Susan knows that grief fades, but she cannot comprehend the loss of her own family. _

A shriek draws Susan's eye to a compartment across the aisle. She sees a brief flash of color and hears the clamor of a scuffle. From experience, Susan knows the sounds of two brothers wrestling where they should not.

_Peter and Edmund tumble into the atrium where Susan is seated with her advisors and several visiting dignitaries. Still boys, only Peter has the good sense to right himself and apologize. Edmund is too busy laughing at the jam smeared across Peter's tunic. _

Aunt Alberta is not inclined to chat, and Susan is rather relieved. Tucking her ankles to the side, practical Susan pulls out the novel she brought along for the train ride. It is one of Lucy's and filled with glorious tales of fantastic creatures and dashing knights. Susan knows such dreams comprise every girl's fantasies, but it hurts too much to consider such tales a possibility much less a reality.

_Lucy whirls into Susan's room, cheeks flushed with joy as she describes another evening spent with her long-time suitor. Smiling coyly at Susan, she reveals her engagement. Delighted, the two sisters dance around the bedroom until they are out of breath. _

The dreariness of London speeds by, the train an unstoppable force. Susan thinks that she should feel some sort of aversion towards trains, but she knows them to be necessary. The logical one, Susan always knows the facts. She has spent her whole life dealing in the little details that make all the difference.

_Susan crumples a piece of parchment and tosses it at Edmund. They have been seated at this table for over four hours staring at the same documents. Edmund sighs dramatically, and Susan wonders if they'll ever discern this encoded letter. Probably not, she thinks. All the same, it's their job, and they're a team. _

The train begins to slow, and Susan's heart plummets. For a second, she wishes with all of her heart that Professor Kirke had not mentioned the 'Pevensie children' in his will. The last of those four, she has a responsibility and intends to claim what is theirs. It's what Peter, Edmund, and Lucy would want. She knows this, but Susan is scared. She is afraid that the memories will return, that this time the emotions will not be quelled.

_Peter holds her as she cries. He strokes her hair and whispers comforting words. Susan does not want to leave his safe grasp, but they can never return to Narnia. She must face this world. Susan knows that she cannot hide behind her brother forever. Instead, she tucks away the emotion. _

Professor Kirke's cottage is walking distance from the train station, so Alberta and Susan begin making their way toward his home. Susan remembers the way. She, Lucy, and Edmund came here once before to visit Peter. As they approach, Susan notices the massive tree planted firmly beside the house. Her heart wrenches a little more.

_Susan sits at the base of the tree, weaving a daisy chain. Peter is sprawled beside her, Lucy's head pillowed on his chest. Occasionally, a shower of crinkled leaves blanket the siblings, and above, Edmund apologizes insincerely. Inevitably, Lucy mentions Narnia—the place Susan has not considered since she left for America. Susan knows the truth, but Narnia is not real here. Continuing her crown of daisies, Susan ignores Lucy. _

The cottage is dusty and cluttered. No one has been here since the Accident. Beside her, Alberta clucks disapprovingly, and the two women pick their way around the stacks of books. The will was hardly specific, and when Susan mentions this to Aunt Alberta, Alberta shrugs noncommittally and comments about the foolishness of the masses. Surprisingly, this quip offends Susan. Alberta knew nothing of the professor or the experiences that shaped his lifetime. Suddenly, Susan realizes that Alberta knows nothing about her or her own life. Susan has been hiding behind a mask of logic and practicality.

_Of the nine headstones before her, there are three that Susan refuses to look at. She can't for fear of completely losing herself to heartbreak. Susan knows that grief at the funeral of a family member(s) is expected, but the pain she feels at the loss of her best friends is incomprehensible. Instead, she stares firmly at her black skirt, afraid to look at anything that would render memories of her brothers and sister. _

Susan leaves Alberta standing in the doorway and wanders slowly through the three room cottage. Gently, she fingers familiar objects and worn furniture. Memories threaten to engulf her, but Susan keeps her mind reigned in. She knows that once she relinquishes her power over her emotions, the chances of regaining such control are highly unlikely. Wandering through the second room, Susan trips over a water-stained, wooden trunk. A cloud of dust coats Susan, and she rubs her shin before gingerly opening the trunk. A familiar smell permeates the room.

_Lucy stares at her angrily, the open Wardrobe door a testament to Susan's lack of belief, to her devotion to facts. Moth balls speckle the floor, and the only thing Susan sees inside of the Wardrobe are rows of fur coats. _

A gasp escapes Susan's lips as her fingers stroke the soft fur that lays neatly folded inside of the trunk. Pulling the coat from its resting place, a smile finds its way onto Susan's face as she holds up Edmund's coat. She chuckles slightly as she remembers her little brother mucking through the snow in a girl's coat. The next is little Lucy's. It's ripped at the sleeve, and Susan guesses that this is from Peter's attempt to maintain his hold on Lucy while floating down the Great River. Susan pulls out Peter's, though she is now too excited to give this third coat a thorough onceover, for she knows that hers must be next. Forgetting any reservations, she quickly tries her own coat on, giggling at the short sleeves and unseemly hem.

Susan doesn't know how these coats got back to their proper places, nor does she know how the professor knew which coats they had "borrowed." The coats removed from the trunk, Susan finds herself staring at four wooden Lion's heads. Positive that these carvings hail from the Wardrobe, Susan can no longer cower beneath a façade of knowledge. Clad in the fur coat that witnessed the beginning of the adventures, Susan realizes that the hardest things to remember are the things that are really worth knowing. Susan remembers Narnia and her King, and there is but one balm for the pain such memories unleash. For her doubt, Susan will endure a life of grief as she awaits a world void of such sorrow. In this, she places her hope, for Susan knows Aslan.

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"_The man who thinks he knows something does not yet know as he ought to know." _

_1 Corinthians 8:2_

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AN: Thanks so much for reading this quartet. I certainly didn't do the greatest job at updating quickly. I hope to return to The Golden Age  shortly, though I think I want to re-vamp it a bit. We'll see though. Thanks again and let me know what you think.


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